Night Witch (Weatherstone College, #2)(63)

“Firstly, I could trigger the curse and move our timeline up much faster. If it looks like that’s happening, I’ll stop what I’m doing. We can’t risk sending you into a downward spiral of dark energy, or pushing the curse past the point of reversal.”

I nodded. “What else?”

“I could trigger your affinity and unlock the magic completely. You have no idea how to control it, and we’re in no magical position to banish dozens of monsters like we did on All Hallows’.”

This worried me more than hastening the curse. “If I stay calm and keep my emotions and magic level, I shouldn’t call monsters.” I wasn’t sure who I was trying to convince with my confidence. “Any other magical issues we need to concern ourselves with?”

Logan pressed in closer; my breath caught in my chest as he leaned down and skimmed his lips along the edge of my jaw, breathing me in. “None as concerning as those two. Are you ready, Paisley Jane Hallistar?”

“Full name, hey?” I was breathless, fighting for composure. “Must be serious.”

His huge hands slid around my waist, pulling me against his body until there was no distance between us. “The forever kind of serious,” he whispered, and then his power rose, hotter than I’d ever felt from him, and I wondered if the plan was to burn the spell from my essence.

As the heat built, so did the bite of flames, and I cried out as Logan’s lips closed around mine. His attempt to scorch the suppression potion from me was forgotten as I tasted his power, mint and evergreen surrounding me. His magic bit into my skin and body, colliding with the shield around my magic.

At first, Gran’s spell fought back, but Logan’s magic found a few chinks in the shield, destroying the energy. By the time he cracked the first few layers, I was panting, locked in the sensation of skin charring from my bones. I wanted to rage at him for not telling me exactly how painful this would be, but I should have guessed after he told me there’d be a price.

“Breathe, baby,” he whispered against my lips, voice rasping across scorched nerves. He didn’t sound happy about the pain as he kissed me to take as much as he could.

“It h-has to be done,” I managed to choke out. “Hit me with every-everything, mate.”

Logan’s eyes darkened as his power swelled. I tasted fire and ice, earth and metal, as elemental air swirled around us. The earthiness increased as he tapped harder into his spellcaster side, a hint of rosemary and mint dancing across my tongue.

When he shattered the next layer of the spell, he quenched the burn with water droplets, steam sizzling off us. That was when my legs gave out, but Logan held me upright. His gaze never left mine as I sank into the pain, and I almost let it take me over.

“Last layer,” Logan growled, sweat beading his forehead. “Your gran’s spell is strong, and your mom is quite the adept weaver, which is unfortunate today.”

She’d spent decades honing that side of her abilities while ignoring her innate magic. She was the best. Gripping his shoulders, my nails dug into his skin, but he didn’t even wince. I attempted to loosen my grip when I sensed I was cutting into him, but it was as if he was the tether keeping me grounded to this world.

“Don’t let go, Precious,” he encouraged, as if hearing my thoughts. “I’m going to jolt that final layer hard, and I want you to hold on to your magic. Don’t let it go.”

We’d practiced this in general magic classes last year—how to contain your magic and prevent it from seeping out into the world. There were times the energy needed freedom, and others when it had to be locked down. Logan wanted me to lock mine down.

I just hoped I had the strength to do it.

The heat rose another few degrees until we were burning in Hel. A burn I’d endure all day every day if it saved Logan and my family.

When his final storm of power crashed into me, a scream ripped from my throat, followed by vomit, and I turned my head to avoid hitting Logan in the face.

The expulsion of the suppression potion was audible, my magic exploding from within my thinly held grasp. It had been held captive for too long, needing freedom from its cage. For a second I thought it was all over, that the monsters would come and I’d be too weak to drag them back. Logan’s energy slipped inside me at the last second, stitching our powers together to keep my magic contained.

The fire died, along with the need to spew power and the contents of my stomach across the living room. “It’s done,” I whispered, breathing heavily as I tilted my head back to meet Logan’s fiery gaze.

His eyes were piercing, but he was paler than I’d ever seen, having expelled a ton of his power. “Are you okay?” I asked, concern filtering through me when he didn’t reply. “Logan? Babe?”

“Don’t move, Precious,” he murmured as he lowered his head right near my ear.

That small shift from the spellcaster still set off a scuffle behind us, and faster than I’d ever moved before, I spun and placed myself between Logan and the scuffle.

Because I knew exactly what was behind us.

Logan hadn’t contained my magic quickly enough and I’d called a monster. The creature shuffled in from the kitchen, and it was the smallest of any I’d seen. Only standing a few inches taller than me, looking like a giant, black-furred field mouse on two legs. Beady eyes observed us as it sniffed around.